


Skin to Skin

by Renversermonmonde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Officer!Dean, Police Officer!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renversermonmonde/pseuds/Renversermonmonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's on duty when he gets a call about a man that nearly drowned when his canoe got tipped over. Rescue requires skin to skin contact...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin to Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winglesss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winglesss/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by [ true events](http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/04/28/officer-canoe-rescue-_n_5227030.html?ncid=fcbklnkushpmg00000023<br%20/>)  
> And [Kate's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Winglesss/pseuds/Winglesss) need for someone to turn it into a Destiel fic.
> 
> Edited and additions were made by the lovely [Kate](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Winglesss/pseuds/Winglesss).

"Winchester! What's your location?!" came Harvelle's voice through the radio. With a deep sigh, officer Dean Winchester grabbed his radio to call in.

"This is Winchester, I just passed the exit to the harbour."  
"Good, that's great. Make a U-turn, like, yesterday," the radio screamed at him. Dean did as he was asked without questioning, trusting Jo's judgement. "We've got an issue at the harbour, some poor guy's canoe tipped over because of the wind and a bystander called 911. He's on land by now, but things aren't looking good. So get your ass over there, pronto!"  
"Already on my way," he grunted, wondering what kind of idiot would want to go canoeing with this kind of weather. Harsh winds, a lot of rain, and did he mention the ridiculous temperatures?! Sure, this was Canada, but even then. This was just stupid.

As he arrived at the scene, he noticed people standing around something, his guess would be the person who nearly drowned. Getting out of the car he announced his arrival and asked someone to update him and tell him what to do.  
"Well, sir, unless you have blankets and heat packs and that kind of thing in that car of yours, nothing's gonna do him a lot of good but skin to skin contact. You know, sharing body heat."  
Before the woman -who was wearing a nurse uniform, he noticed belatedly- had finished her sentence Dean was pulling off his coat, followed by his shirt.  
"Okay, so, what? Just lie on top of him or something?" he asked as he knelt down next to the stranger, now shirtless as well thanks to the help of the nurse.  
"Yeah, basically," the nurse replied, cradling the man´s head in her lap.  
Without hesitation, Dean lied down and wrapped his arms around the lean body, gasping at the coldness of the skin beneath him. That couldn't be good. Turning his head, he looked at the man. Dark hair, icy blue eyes. _Fitting description, Winchester,_ he thought. Taking a proper look at the guy, he had to admit he was attractive. Stupidly so, actually. Lifting his head to find the nurse in the crowd, he asked if there was anything else he could do.  
"Try to keep him conscious." Okay. Dean could do that. Keep the man conscious.  
"Hey, you, what's your name?" The stranger shifted his head so he could look at him. Damn, this was close. _Now's not the time to let your personal space issues get the upper hand._  
"C-cas-" the stranger replied. Dean felt his deep voice rumbling in his chest.  
"Heya, Cas, I'm Dean. It's nice to meet you, even though I wish it was under different circumstances."  
"He's probably not thinking straight, officer, you might want to just... talk to him, or something." Dean nodded, that made sense and it seemed like just saying his name took too much effort already.  
"Okay, that works for me. So Cas, I'm Dean Winchester, a police officer. I am 35, have been in the force for the past... christ, twelve years or so? I have a brother, Sam, he's 31 and a lawyer. A damn good one, at that. I like to call him Sammy, but he doesn't like it. He's married to this lovely girl called Jess, and she makes the best apple pie in the country. If you want to, when all of this is over, I'll take you there to meet them and try the pie. Her apricot or cherry are mean pies as well, though. They've got a kid on the way, in about three months. They know what gender it is, but they refuse to tell me. I think that's a little mean, but it's up to them, really. They've also figured out names already as well." Dean pauses, checking on the guy, whose shivering got less violent now. He can feel his heart beating slowly, too slowly, but steadily. He realizes the man was holding his hands in the air awkwardly, too shy to touch Dean. But now he feels cold palms splaying on his back. He tries not to hiss at the cold and continues talking in what he believes is a soothing voice.  
"So... I live alone. Or, well, alone... I have a dog. He's an American Stafford, a grey one. His name is Zeppelin, as I love Led Zeppelin… I drive a '67 Chevy Impala, and damn that's a gorgeous car. I love listening to rock music, but the old kind. Like Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, that kind of thing. It's not for everyone, but I've loved it all my life. In my spare time I like to tinker with the car, or go for long walks with Zep, or just take him and the car for a ride during the weekends, or go over to Sam's for dinner, or whatever. You still with me, man?" Dean rambled, glad to hear sirens in the distance.  
"Other than that... I occasionally enjoy reading, mainly Vonnegut. Food-wise I love burgers and pie, where Sam prefers healthy stuff like vegetables and salads and that kind of thing. I don't like rain, or cold, so why the hell I live in Canada is a mystery." The sirens suddenly got turned off and medics were coming into view, and Dean pulled back as they wrapped Cas in blankets and heat pads and fuck knows what else, before putting him in the ambulance and giving him a quick once over. Dean stood by and watched as the medics did their work, before having the ambulance door shutting in his face and a weak "no" from inside the ambulance.  
Looking through the window, Dean saw Cas had his arm raised, pointing at him.  
"Sir, I think he wants you to come along? Can you follow us or do you want to sit in the ambulance?" Shooting a look at Cas, Dean instantly decided to get into the ambulance. After locking his car, he hopped in, grabbing Cas' hand in his own.  
He ignored the medic working around him and locked eyes with Cas, who had a little more colour in his cheeks already. The ride to the hospital didn't take long and before Dean knew it Cas was being wheeled away from him and he was told to wait there.

After a few minutes, Dean remembered he was on duty and should probably call his situation in. Grabbing his phone, he did exactly that.  
"Singer," came the gruff voice of the head of police.  
"Bobby, it's Dean. I got the call about the guy in the harbour? I'm currently in the hospital waiting for news on him."  
"Okay, good to know. You make sure he's alright before even considering getting back to work, you hear me? Harvelle told me about the situation, it didn't sound good. Check in again when you're back on the road," Bobby replied before putting down the phone. Dean chuckled, that's Bobby alright, worried, but short in his replies.

"Sir?" a gentle voice came, accompanied by a hand shaking his shoulder. Dean opened his eyes, momentarily disoriented before remembering what had happened. He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand across his face before looking at the nurse.  
"Are you the officer that came in with the patient with hypothermia?" she asked. Dean nodded.  
"Ah, good. Well, he's been checked all over and he's on his way to a normal temperature as we speak. Also, he asked for you. If you want to, he's in wing A, room 2.15." Dean thanked her as he got up and made to walk in the direction of the room when the nurse stopped him.  
"You saved his life, officer. Without your help, he wouldn't still be with us," she said before letting him go.

"Hello, Dean," came a clear voice once he opened the door.  
"Heya, Cas. It's good to see you with a bit more colour on your cheeks, there," Dean joked as he walked into the room and sat down on the chair next to the bed. Cas chuckled, which ended in a coughing fit. Dean reached over and grabbed the cup with the straw before bringing it to Cas' lips when the fit was over.  
Cas drank a little, giving him a thankful look, before saying, "My name is Castiel Novak. I'm sorry to have mislead you as to what my name is."  
"No worries man, you were kinda busy not dying on me. So, Castiel, huh? Interesting name."  
"I was named after an angel. The angel of Thursday, to be precise."  
"Huh, friday must be your unlucky day, then..." Dean joked, grinning when Cas -Castiel- laughed at that.  
"It would seem so, yes. But, thankfully you were there." Dean blushed at that, suddenly very aware that this was rather... weird.  
"I wanted to thank you, Dean, for saving my life," Castiel said sincerely. Dean smiled as his blush intensified.  
"No problem, man. You would've done the same for me."  
"Don't just dismiss my thanks like that. I mean it, thank you. I don't remember much of it, I'm afraid, but I remember the green of your eyes." It _had_ to be impossible for Dean to blush any harder. _It had to._ Castiel yawned, before blushing himself.  
"Sorry about that, I'm exhausted."  
"I'm sorry, I should probably let you rest, Erm..." Dean rummaged through his coat, trying to find one of his cards, which had somehow completely disappeared. Giving up on trying to find one, he grabbed the notepad next to the bed with the pen and scribbled down his name and number. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" Dean said as he tore off the page and handed it to Castiel.  
"I will, thank you, Dean."  
Dean reached over to squeeze Castiel's hand before leaving.  
"Look after yourself, Castiel," he said before walking towards the door. Looking back one last time, he saw Castiel fast asleep, paper clutched in a loose fist. He smiled. This kind of thing was why he became a police officer.

Castiel and his blue eyes had faded to the back of Dean's mind in the following days, a pile up on the highway and a domestic violence case taking up all his time and attention. That is, until his phone signalled he'd gotten a new text message. Without looking he opened it and saved the report he was working on before looking at it:

UNKNOWN NUMBER:  
I think you owe me the best apple pie in the country.  
When do you have time?  
Castiel.


End file.
